There was a time when the supermarket was something new. It was a sort of marker in the then cautiously optimistic, shell-shocked American culture. It was just after World War Two, the Federal Aid Highway Act, the expanded development of the refrigerated truck, stainless steel, linoleum, florescent lighting and manufactured food. To make a new building type, you have to have the proper ingredients.
Blindingly bright fluorescent lighting was used throughout the building. The ceilings seemed invisible. The floors were brilliant white. This even, blanket of light created a flatness to the space. I think you could argue that there didn't appear to be any space at all, only the packaged products that were surrounding you. It facilitated in the purchase of these goods.
It also created a new kind of environment. Comfort, as in warm and cosy, was not part of it. Comfort was found in convenience.
And with the new building type came a new type of environment - the Spaceless Space - where the focus was on the objects and there was nothing in between. The space was more like a vacume. It is crisp, flat, cold and dead.
People loved it.
It evolves into its own, amazing aesthetic, in Stanley Kubrick's "2001". As is often the case, the best architecture takes place in the movies, and here, I think, the image of Keir Dullea drifting through the white lit pod-channels on his way to talk to HAL, set a new high standard that the originator of these forms didn't even understand, let alone anticipate. The even blanket of light smothers the space. Dave is the only object. It's a hostile place because this time the vacuum is real.
Others caught on and ripped it off. Kubrick's ingenious vision can now be found at your local Apple Store.